IMPERFECT || T.K

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍

BLAIR MILLER
-TWO WEEKS LATER-

Safe to say I'm losing the bet here.

And my goddamn mind.

My vagina, that too.

I want to say out of the seven days last week I had sex... maybe six times.

Twice in one day on Wednesday.

I'm limping all of the time now.

And I think it's past the point where I can blame it on my knee.

I can't even wear shorts anymore because I have handprints all over my thighs.

And my waist.

Fucking christ.

I held my head in my hands, walking down the hallways at school.

I felt myself being yanked.

I didn't even scream.

I know it's Tom.

"No." I shook my head.

"No?" He pouted.

I can't.

"I'm all sexed out, I can't do it again." I let my head fall into his chest, maybe if it was a little more gentle i'd be okay.

But it's not, boy it's really not.

And i've still yet to have been on top.

I beg every time and he won't let me.

"Did I break you...?" He whispered, holding onto the back of my head. I nodded against his chest. "Kind of."

"Oh no."

Yeah.

"Give me like eight hours to heal, you can come in my room tonight." I really wanted to hug him but I haven't done that on purpose in a long time.

The last time we hugged was the... soccer game I think. When we won.

Yes—he's held me in his arms but that's not really a hug. That's because I was mentally on the verge of a breakdown.

We went to the movies with everyone the other night.

That was the most gentle it's ever been, considering we were in a handicap stall.